


Our World

by SwitzyFangirl



Category: Hetalia: Axis Powers
Genre: BDMS, Flashbacks, M/M, S&M, Take Over, WWII, WWIII
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2013-09-03
Updated: 2013-09-03
Packaged: 2017-12-25 11:57:42
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 2
Words: 3,861
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/952797
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SwitzyFangirl/pseuds/SwitzyFangirl
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>After WWII Paris doesn't want anything to do with Berlin and Konigsberg. This sets off a chain of events resulting in him being kidnapped by the two Germanic capitals. After London, D.C. and Ottawa rescue him Germany declares war on France, forcing all the capitals out of hiding.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Out of Hiding

Chapter 1: Out of Hiding

 

Paris hummed a little tune, helping Ottawa make pancakes for breakfast. His little brother had come for a visit and considering how attached Ottawa was to his twin brother that was rare. Said twin was sitting at the dining room table, drinking a glass of milk with one hand, texting with the other.

“ _Berlin a été inquiété dernièrement. Il dit qu'il a un mauvais sentiment._ ” Paris whispered to Ottawa in French.

Ottawa nodded. “ _J'ai aussi_.”

“Will you two stop speaking in French?!” D.C. demanded, setting down his milk. “I have Google Translate on my phone you know!”

Ottawa blushed in embarrassment and apologized while Paris simply shrugged. “We didn’t want to worry you D.C. Berlin is convinced something bad is coming.”

“I didn’t know you were talking to Berlin and Konigsberg again.” D.C. raised an eyebrow curiously.

Paris rolled his eyes. “I’m not, Madrid told me.”

“Are you still giving him London’s used left socks?” Ottawa asked.

Paris nodded. “This way he doesn’t kidnap me and try to make me talk to Berlin and Konigsberg.”

The twins nodded their understanding.

London stomped down the stairs, rubbing his eyes. “To bloody early. Somebody pass me a beer and some pancakes.”

Paris snickered and picked up a pitcher of water, walked over to London, and dumped it on the red head’s head. “I don’t serve beer.”

London sputtered angrily, thoroughly soaked, and ground his teeth together. “Run. Now.”

Paris took off out the door, London right on his heels. Ottawa and D.C. shook their heads.

 

Paris had been running for 10 minutes when he ran smack into someone. He fell and banged his head on the sidewalk. He looked up with watery eyes.

“Paris, are you alright?” Berlin asked, picking him up.

Paris glared and tried to push him away. “ _Laissez-moi la paix! Le fait de Baiser le Nazi! Londres! Aide!_ ”

Berlin shook his head and pulled something out of his pocket. A moment later Paris flinched and slowly stopped moving, watching Berlin, fear and betrayal filling up his eyes.

“I’m sorry for hurting you Paris, but there was no way around this.” He turned and began walking, the unconscious Parisian balanced carefully in his arms. Sometimes Konigsberg had good ideas.

London ran down the sidewalk, and not seeing Paris, turned around to cut the blond off back at the house.

 

London opened the door, peering in. Ottawa and D.C. were eating at the table. “Have you two seen Paris?” He asked.

They shook their heads and Ottawa took out his phone, calling Paris. When he received no answer he looked frightened. “Paris always answers his phone unless he’s asleep or unconscious or tied up! He can’t sleep outside of the house since WWII!” He looked like he was about to cry. “He’s been kidnapped!”

D.C. rolled his eyes and called Konigsberg. “Hurt Paris and I’ll kill both of you.” He hung up before Konigsberg could reply. He looked at Ottawa. “He’ll be fine. Calm down.”

“If he’s not back in 3 hours we’ll track down Berlin and Konigsberg, okay?” London ruffled Ottawa’s hair.

Ottawa nodded and shoved his pancakes away, appetite completely gone.

 

Konigsberg looked at his phone. “Well D.C.’s pissed.” He looked across the hotel room toward Berlin. “He says if we hurt Paris he’ll kill us.”

Speaking of Paris, he was tied up and gagged in the corner, growling whenever either of them came near him.

“We aren’t going to get anything done if he doesn’t calm down.” Berlin groaned.

Konigsberg smirked in Paris’s direction. “Seems kinda cute to me.”

Paris glared daggers at him, growling a warning deep in his throat.

Konigsberg walked over to him, getting on his knees, and began petting the enraged Parisian. “Shhhhhh…sweetheart, we aren’t gonna hurt you again, okay? We just want to talk.”

Paris looked away, trembling. Konigsberg removed the gag. “See, no one gets hurt.”

Paris whimpered, looking back up at him, and tried pressing himself farther back in the corner.

“Calm down blondie, I already said we weren’t gonna hurt you.”

Paris opened his mouth to scream and a hand was slapped over it. “I take it back, you scream, and I’ll spank you myself.” Konigsberg growled in annoyance.

Paris nodded his understanding, eyes wide with fear. Konigsberg removed his hand. “W-what do you want?” Paris asked.

Konigsberg smiled. “See, there’s the Paris I fell in love with all those years ago. Smart, pretty, pouty Paris.”

Berlin growled at him.

Konigsberg shook his head. “The same one Berlin fell in love with to.”

Paris glanced from the ropes at his hands and feet before looking back at the two skeptically. “If this is how you treat people you love I’d hate to see how you treat people you hate.”

Konigsberg sighed. “We missed you and you wouldn’t even talk to us after WWII.”

“Well _Kaliningrad_ -“

Konigsberg shoved the gag down his throat and pinned him to the ground.

Paris flinched.

“Never call me that you fucking _bitch_!” Konigsberg backhanded him.

Tears started leaking out of the corner of Paris’s eyes. He whimpered.

“ _Kleine Scheißhure_!” Konigsberg hissed.

Paris wiggled and whimpered, eyes wide.

Berlin walked over, tugging Konigsberg off of him. “He didn’t mean it _bruder_ ; you know how he gets when he’s frightened. He speaks first and thinks later.”

Paris whimpered and squeezed his eyes shut. Those exact words from not too long ago ringing in his head. Berlin removed the gag. Paris looked at Konigsberg. “You should know how I feel.” He whispered, lowering his head.

“What do you mean?” Konigsberg asked, sitting down in front of Paris, Berlin standing behind him.

“You trusted Moscow before WWII didn’t you?” He sniffled. “He was on your side for most of the war.”

Konigsberg nodded. “Yeah, your point?”

“Didn’t you feel betrayed when he took you over and used you, hurt you, because you trusted him?”

Konigsberg glared. “Yeah, and?”

“And now don’t you hate him and thinking about him and what he put you through hurts?”

Konigsberg pinned him against the wall, hand wrapped around the smaller capital’s neck. “Don’t you _dare_ compare my brother and me to him. We _love_ you.”

“You beat me, you chained me up, you killed my citizens, and you raped me. That is not love. That is hate.” Paris accused him, crying softly.

“You fucking loved every minute of being ‘raped’.” Konigsberg spat in his face.

“I hate you Konigsberg. You’re a fucking hypocrite, you and your brother both. Say you love me all you want. I’ll never believe you or love you back. You have no right to do this, to throw lies in my face, to accuse me. You can’t blame this on me when it’s your fault.”

“You’re the one who won’t listen!” Konigsberg tightened his grip on Paris’s throat.

“I’ve heard you. I don’t believe you.” He winced. “Strangling me won’t make me believe you.”

“ _Ich, Liebe Sie, wir bumsend, Liebe Sie bumsend!_ ” Konigsberg howled.

“ _Je déteste vous tous les deux_.”

 

Paris lay on the floor, sobbing quietly. Konigsberg was fixing his gloves, watching him all the while. “Oh please, I didn’t spank you that hard.”

Paris trembled, pants still around his ankles, hands and feet till tied. He could feel the forming bruises on his backside and neck. He was frightened. He could feel the old betrayal stirring up again inside him.

Berlin was watching him, sitting on the hotel bed. “That’s enough Konigsberg. Fix his clothes. D.C. will kill us if he thinks we did anything more.”

Konigsberg rolled his eyes and bent down, pulling Paris’s pants up. “See, your fine.”

“Let me go home.” He whispered, choking back the fear in his voice.

“Not happening. We’ve given you over 70 years to get over WWII. We’re not giving you a day more.” Berlin told him, standing. “I’m going to call London and tell him what’s happened so he doesn’t worry.”

There was a knock on the door. Berlin went to open it, being shoved aside by D.C. Ottawa and London were right behind him. They ran over to Paris, shoving Konigsberg out of the way.

“Paris, Paris, damn it!” D.C. grabbed the sobbing capital’s hands, helping him stand. “Are you alright?”

 Paris nodded, sniffling. “Been through worse.”

London pulled out his pocket knife and cut the ropes off Paris’s hands and feet. “WWII all over again, right my friend?”

“Not that bad.” _But the memories resurfacing are._ Paris glared at the two Germans. “I _hate_ you.”

 

Germany and Prussia stared across the table at the two near copies of their teenage selves, taking in the few and far between differences.

Konigsberg and Berlin looked at each other, rolling their eyes.

“So Kaliningrad-“

Konigsberg shot up out of his seat like a rocket, trying to jump over the table to strangle Germany. Berlin grabbed his hand. “Sit down. He didn’t know how much that name pisses you off Konigsberg.”

German and Prussia watched them curiously.

“Basically, the only reason we’ve revealed ourselves to you is we want a war. With France. More specifically, Paris. We want control of Paris. You can do whatever you want with the rest of the country.” Berlin told them seriously, pressing Konigsberg down into his seat.

“Why would you want a war with Paris?” Prussia asked curiously.

“He refuses to have anything to do with us since WWII ended and well-“

Konigsberg rolled his eyes. “Bitch decided he hates us. We are not okay with that.”

 

Paris watched the personification of his country begin signing paperwork before sighing and walking over to him.

“Avent Bonnefoy.” He whispered.

France looked up at him. “The reason behind this war is here, great.” He growled in irritation.

Paris flinched. “I didn’t mean to-“

London walked up behind him and slung a comforting arm over his shoulder. “It isn’t his fault Mr. Bitch.” London growled. “Berlin and Konigsberg are the ones behind this; Paris just wanted to be left alone.”

“I’m surprised Arthur let you come to this meeting with him.” France raised an eyebrow.

“He doesn’t know I exist yet.” London smirked. “Adair Kirkland at your service. And this blond bombshell of an idiot happens to be my best friend Paris, otherwise known as Avent Bonnefoy.”

Paris rolled his eyes. “London.” He whined. “Where are Ottawa and D.C.?”

“McDonalds.” London turned to look at him. “No bloody fucking duh.”

“Arthur!” France called, a blond in a suit walking over to the group. “Meet London and Paris. Get London away from me, he’s like you in the 90’s and early 2000’s.”

England rolled his eyes. “You’re bloody kidding.”

“Personifications of the capitals. The red head is yours. I don’t like him.”

London stuck his tongue out at him. “I’m not leaving Paris to feel even worse about himself because you blame him refusing to fuck Berlin and Konigsberg for this war.”

Paris flinched. “T-that’s what they wanted?”

London looked at him in surprise. “You didn’t know?”

“I-I…” Paris started crying. “Not again!”

London patted his shoulder in order to calm him down. “I won’t let them hurt you again Paris, I promise. I’ll die first.”

He glared at the 2 nations. “This all you stupid country faults! You can’t solve your own problems and we get dragged into it. If stupid Germany and Prussia hadn’t given the okay this wouldn’t be happening. C’mon Paris, let’s go to McDonald’s to get D.C. and Ottawa.”

Paris nodded, allowing himself to be led out, still crying.

 

1)       Berlin has been worried lately. He says he has a bad feeling.

2)       I have as well.

3)       Leave me alone! Fucking Nazi! London! Help!

4)       Little fucking whore!

5)       Brother

6)       I fucking love you, we fucking love you!

7)       I hate you both.


	2. You say Love

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A WWII flashback and Paris giving in to Berlin's demands.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Rape in this chapter as well as death of two minor characters mentioned.

Chapter 2: You say Love

 

_I shiver, whether from cold or fear I don’t know. Probably fear since the blood leaking from the cuts all over my body is warming me up quite nicely. My body had gone numb a few hours before. Actually, what felt like a few hours ago. There was no light down here. For days, or months, or years, or however long I had been down here Berlin and Konigsberg would come down those stairs and beat me bloody, cut me up, then leave me sobbing in pain on the floor. I don’t know how long it has been since I’ve eaten or bathed. I don’t care about that though. I just want London to save me like he promised he would. Please, please London, save me._

_The door at the top of the stairs slammed and I can hear combat boots stomping down the stairs. I don’t move and just close my eyes. Maybe if they think I’m unconscious they’ll leave and come back later. Just a little longer without fresh wounds would be nice._

_“Are you done fighting us Paris?” Berlin asked, squatting down and petting my head affectionately._

_I nodded. Please, if I stop fighting will you stop hurting me? You said you loved me! You promised that you’d protect me! Now you’re hurting me. What did I do to make you angry? Please, just stop. I can’t take it anymore._

_“Say it Paris. Say that you give up.”_

_“I give up.” I say through cracked and bleeding lips. I open my eyes and see Vatican City and Rome standing behind the two Germans and I want to cry. I have no tears left to cry though, even at the sight of my younger brothers standing there, not doing anything about how I’m being treated. My sweet Vatican and my overprotective Rome just look at me like they don’t know me. Have I changed that much? Have they? Nothing makes sense anymore. Whatever I did, did it make them hate me to? Please, please forgive me! Please!_

_Vatican City and Rome head for the stares. Rome sends me a look, one I recognize from years ago. One that says ‘I have no choice’ and ‘I love you’ and ‘Be Strong’ all together. The look he would give me during the Hundred Year War with London. My brothers don’t hate me. If I could make my lips move anymore I would smile in relief._

_Berlin picks me up and rests my head against his shoulder. Konigsberg lifts a glass of water to my lips. I drink greedily, my now moist lips smiling thankfully. No more pain, no more beating, it’s over. Finally over. I can have my friends back and eventually I’ll get London and Ottawa and D.C. back. Hope shines in my heart. Konigsberg kisses my forehead._

_“You know we love you, right Paris?” He asks, taking away the now empty glass._

_I nod, of course they love me, they wouldn’t lie, right? They were just angry and now they’re not. If I’m careful they won’t get angry again and they won’t hurt me. They haven’t asked me to love them back. I can behave. I’ll be good. I will._

_“Are you going to behave?” Berlin whispers in my ear._

_I nod again._

_Konigsberg smiles and kisses my lips sweetly. I kissed back._

_No more darkness and beatings. I get my friends back now. I don’t think I’ve ever been this relieved._

_Konigsberg ruffles my hair. “Such a good little Paris. You’re not mad at us?”_

_I shook my head. How could I be mad at them? It was my fault, wasn’t it? I don’t know what I did, but I must have done something. They love me. They wouldn’t hurt me for no reason._

_“I told you he’d understand.” Konigsberg looked at Berlin. “I’ve known him since he was a little girl-boy hiding behind Constantinople, before you were born.”_

_“Whatever Konigsberg. Let’s go wash him off and get him some food before he dies on us.”_

_I sat in Berlin’s lap, wearing one of the tall capital’s dress shirts. The sleeves were rolled up so I could eat._

_He ran his fingers through my blond hair. “I wish it could have been live this from the beginning Wenig Kätzchen.”_

_“Me too.” I said between bites._

_“Did you miss this?” He asks, a bit surprised._

_I nod. “I missed hanging around you guys. We usually have so much fun.”_

_The room got quiet all of the sudden. What did I do wrong? I thought that was nice?_

_“So you don’t love us back?” Konigsberg asks._

_“I don’t know.” The fork fell from my finger tips is. “I’ve never been in love before so I don’t know.”_

_They seemed to accept that answer for the moment._

_“Would you like some desert Paris?” Berlin asked._

_“Yes please.” I smiled, leaning back against him._

_Konigsberg got up to get it for me._

_I sat on the grass, smiling up at the sun. Konigsberg and Berlin weren’t far behind me, watching me. They thought I might run._

_I’ll prove to them that they can trust me. I’ll be the best me I can be. I’ll get all my friends back! I look back at them. “Do you guys wanna play a game? We could play tag or something, just like when Berlin was little?”_

_Konigsberg smiles. “Fine, Berlin’s it.”_

_Berlin’s head snaps up. “Was?”_

_Konigsberg took off running in one direction while I ran in the other. Berlin ran after me immediately, tackling me to the ground._

_I smile up at him. “You’re way better at this game then you used to be!” I laughed._

_Berlin’s face relaxes. “Oh, right, the game.”_

_My face falls. “Y-you thought I was trying to run away?” Tears pricked my eyes. “Why would I do that? I hate when you guys are mad at me!” I started crying._

_Konigsberg ran over. “Dude, what did you do? I mean, he was fine.”_

_“I didn’t realize we were playing a game.” Berlin insisted._

_I am sitting in Konigsberg’s lap while Berlin is grabbing something from that room downstairs. I’m scared that they’ll put me back down there again and be mad and hurt me._

_“What day is it?” I ask._

_“June 22 nd, 1940.” _

_They’d caught me on the 14 th. I’d been down in that room for 8 days. Funny, it feels like I’ve aged years. _

_Berlin came back in the room, a collar in his hand. He walks over and snaps it around my throat._

_My head droops. They don’t trust me at all._

_Konigsberg kisses my neck right under the collar. “You look so cute.”_

_The ropes dug into my skin till I was bleeding. They’d left me tied to the bed for hours. I hadn’t even done anything, as far as I knew. I whimpered when the door opened, hoping that they’d come to untie me._

_Berlin gave me a deranged look and I could feel my heart speed up. He rarely smiled and he’d never looked so insane. Konigsberg wore a similar look._

_My body stopped responding to all the commands my brain was giving it and my mouth can’t move to voice the words running through my head._

_They walked over and Konigsberg got on top of me, cutting the ropes. I breathed a sigh of relief, suddenly choking on my own breath while he licks blood off my wrist._

_“K-Konigsberg! B-Berlin!” I whimper._

_“Er sieht so verdammt erotisch aus.” Konigsberg turns and says to Berlin._

_Berlin nods. “Ja, ja tut er.”_

_“K-Konigsberg! Stop!” I whine as he gropes my ass._

_“Schlechtes, schlechtes Kätzchen. Wollen Sie Ihre Sahne nicht?” He whispers huskily._

_“Ich bekomme seinen Esel.” Berlin growled._

_Konigsberg waved him off. “Ich bekomme seinen hübschen Mund.”_

_He kicked off his pants and I choked on my own spit. He was big. Unfortunately, Berlin was bigger when he took off his own pants._

_I started sobbing, covering my eyes with my hands. Konigsberg smacks my hands away. “Ich will Ihren Ausdruck, Weibchen beobachten.”_

_Berlin grabs something off the table and kneels on the bed between my legs while Konigsberg leans my head against the pillow and forces my mouth open. “Bite me and I’ll make you regret it.” He hisses at me._

_I nod my understanding, still crying. He pushes into my mouth. “Suck.”_

_I hollow out my cheeks and obey._

_Berlin shoves something into my hole, likely his finger, and I whine around Konigsberg’s dick._

_“Das vollkommene Bumsen!”_

_“Dicht!” Berlin says, shoving another finger in roughly._

_Konigsberg continues to fuck my face while I suck when he stops and Berlin pulls out his fingers. I scream when he penetrates me._

_I’m bleeding already; I can feel it dripping out of my hole and down my thigh. Either they don’t notice or they don’t care._

_It doesn’t take them very long to finish, Konigsberg all over my face, and Berlin in my ass. Konigsberg smiles that deranged smile. “Clean your face. Lick up your cream kitten.”_

_I obey, using my fingers to get what my tongue can’t reach and sucking his cum off my fingers. I will never forgive them._

Paris woke up with a scream, hugging his knees to his chest. He began sobbing. “They never loved me! They’ll never love me! They just wanted to fuck me!” He trembled. “I’ll never forget and I’ll never forget!”

He usually had that dream once a year, as a reminder. That was the 8th night in a row he’d dreamed it. The night he’d lost his virginity. “How dare Konigsberg say I enjoyed it?”

His phone rang and he answered, sniffling. “Whoever you are, you should know not to call me this early!”

“Paris.” Berlin said his name in that tone that used to make him believe the other actually loved him. Not anymore.

“Go die in a hole!” His shoulders shook. “You did this to me! You idiots did this! Leave me alone! Just leave me alone!”

“We just want to discuss terms to end the war, wouldn’t you like that? Your people would.”

“What do you want?” He asked.

“We want control of your city. That is it. We do not care about France on a whole. Think of all the lives you’ll save.”

 

_The little blond girl lying on the ground, around 5 or six years old. Her beautiful curly blond hair was covered in her own blood, as was her little dress. I knelt on the ground in front of the dying babe and I grabbed her hand. She smiled at me. “Paris.” She whispered. “I got to meet you, just like my daddy did.”_

_The life faded from her bright blue eyes._

_“I swear, if I have the chance to end this war and only I’ll suffer, I’ll do it.”_

_The girl’s name was Beauté Coeur. Her father had met me three days before he died trying to fight off the Germans. He was her only family._

“…Alright.” Paris hung up the phone.

1)       Little kitten

2)       What?

3)       He looks so fucking sexy.

4)       Yes, yes he does.

5)       Bad, bad kitten. Don’t you want your cream?

6)       I get his ass.

7)       I get his mouth.

8)       I want to see your expression, bitch.

9)       Fucking perfect!

10)   Tight!


End file.
